Complicated Morals
by Imperium42
Summary: SWTOR AU. Ceretius Tavo, an infamous Imperial Agent and Sniper, is captured by the Republic during a botched mission on Taris. As his staunch ally among the Sith, a Chiss Sorceror, searches for his captors, he attempts to manipulate and corrupt a young, female Jedi Knight to secure his release- with unexpected results. OC/OC, some OC/Kaliyo Djannis.


_Complicated Morals:_

_Chapter 1: Honor, Loyalty, Duty_

"You're kidding."

Kaliyo Djannis' face contorted into an expression I'd never before witnessed when I mumbled the confession; it was somewhere between confusion and amusement, and I wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

"I'm serious, Kaliyo!" I hissed, my eyes moving from the Rattataki's exposed breasts to the floor. "My… this _is… _will be…my first time."

"You're shitting me, Agent." She replied, still adamant. "An exemplar of Imperial values like you, with a body like that to match? Every girl in the Empire must have had it with you by now."

"That's just the problem," I muttered, reclining in the bed and running a hand through my hair, "I've always been too fixed on duty to the Empire to ever even seriously consider a woman."

A grin still remained fixed on my companion's face as she scoped my chest up and down, shaking her head all the while.

"Come on, agent. Do _not _tell me you've never fucked Watcher Two. Force, _I _would hit her."

"No," I retorted, blushing, "I have never… had relations… with Watcher Two."

"The dancers at Nem'ro's palace? I _did _hit them…"

"No."

She paused a moment, contemplating.

"Vector?"

"Kaliyo!"

"Alright…gimme a second, Agent…"

As she 'thought', I stood slowly, stretching and walking around the abandoned Taris apartment Djannis had dragged me into for "important business" a few minutes ago. Straightening my boxers, I crouched and moved towards the window, grabbing my sniper rifle with one hand and using the other to turn a dial and slightly lower the window's opacity. My brows furrowed at the sight of the multitudes below us, and I glanced through the rifle's scope to the nearest rooftops. _This location is far too unsecure. There are perfect positions for Republic SIS snipers everywhere on Taris… That high-rise's roof looks particularly opportune… _Caught in my tactical musings, I was taken completely aback by a sudden interruption from my counterpart.

"You've always seemed pretty subservient to Keeper… you're certain there isn't any BDSM going on there?"

"_WHAT?!" _

I pivoted to face Kaliyo so quickly that I slipped, swearing loudly as my side made contact with my unsheathed vibroblade, still lying on the floor where it had fallen with most of my other gear and clothes when they had been ripped off. The nick was shallow and barely bleeding, but as soon as I began to reach for a medkit, Kaliyo was on her knees in front of me, gently kissing the wound with a that disturbing grin once more on her face.

"Kaliyo… that's quite… odd…" I murmured, shuddering and blushing deeply as she maneuvered me onto the bed. "You're not a damn Rakghoul, so don't act like one…"

"Not odd if it turns you on," she replied, moving her mouth further down, towards something which was now quite hard, to my sincere regret.

I groaned slightly as the sensation of Kaliyo's mouth first swept across me in waves, prompting her, again to my regret, to pull off, cackling.

"You make noises like a fucking woman, Ceretius."

I scowled, an intense blush emerging on my cheeks as I struggled to maintain her gaze and think of a suitable retort at the same time.

"Don't call me that. That name doesn't exist anymore."

She scoffed, raising herself onto the bed and beginning to straddle my hips.

"What do you want me to scream, Agent? 'Harder, Cipher 9?'"

Now it was my turn to smirk.

"You know, I might just get off on that."

* * *

"I swear, some people are so stupid, I actually feel bad killing them. It's like putting down a dumb animal. You know what I mean?"

"More than you know." She grunted, unholstering her pistol as we sat in silence at our position on the crumbling rooftop, watching as the bearded man on the opposite edge continued to drone and gesture on into the humid air regarding his tragic misfortunes.

"…I'm Tharan Cedrax, force damn it ! I'm a playboy, I'm a doctor, but I'm not a damn roof guard; that's grunt work! Why the damn Jedi couldn't have hired actual guards for this exchange is beyond me, but that would just be too much trouble for his highness, Master Nareiv! I swear, he…"

"Keeper didn't mention Jedi overseeing the transaction," I hissed frustratedly under my breath, ducking back down behind the rusted pipe providing us with cover, "and I wager this certainly complicates the matter. Wait here, darling."

After giving my Rattataki companion a slight peck on the cheek, I vaulted over the pipe, remaining crouched as I approached the still-oblivious malcontent and self-proclaimed playboy. I stood once I was within striking distance and whistled; as he turned, I took sincere pleasure in slamming his head into the corroded air coolant unit he had been leaning against, and subsequently watching him slump unconscious to the floor. I at once proceeded to retrieve my holocommunicator from inside of my bulky civilian jacket, which also concealed a stun blade, two vibroblades, a pistol I'd nicknamed "The Executioner", a wide variety of flash and thermal grenades, and my personal favorite, a prototype, new model Imperial sniper rifle designed for undercover ops, currently stored in its more compact, collapsed form.

"Patch me through to Keeper, I need to…" I began once Watcher Two's face appeared, though I trailed off, my face burning crimson, as I recalled Kaliyo's bedroom theorizing. Thankfully, she followed my instruction without hesitation; the sight of my handler's face served to partially bring me back to reality, though throughout our conversation, I was sadly unable to expel a series of disturbing images from my mind.

"Cipher 9, what is your status? Have you been compromised?"

"We're operational sir, though I've just received intel that an unspecified number of Jedi are also overseeing the transaction, instead of just the smuggler and her crew. They could compromise my man on the inside, Lokin, should they sense his true intentions. How should I proceed?"

Keeper took a moment to pause, and I smirked as the hologram stroked its chin reflectively.

"This may raise the stakes, but unless he _is _compromised, nothing changes. He will acquire a sample of the Rakghoul antidote and sabotage the rest, and you will rendezvous with him in the lower floors of the building you are currently stationed on. Simplicity itself. If the Jedi do discover him, however, cease all radio contact with him, and I will provide you with new orders. Keeper out."

I nodded silently as the transmission cut out, motioning for Kaliyo to join me at the edge of the roof, which provided a perfect view of the ground level landing pad located at the base of the adjacent building, an abandoned hospital and one of the rare few left relatively intact in the swamp which had swallowed most of Taris' Old City after the Sith bombardment. In an impressive feat he constantly bragged of over the holotransmitter when he reported in, Doctor Lokin had infiltrated a Republic SIS medical unit under the alias of Professor Milus Trebizon. The unit, with the help of a smuggler and, apparently, the Jedi, was in the final stages of rebuilding a cure to the Rakghoul plague, from the remnants of experimental samples that had been present in the hospital at the time of the bombardment. Lokin, as Keeper described, was to retrieve one of the completed samples, covertly sabotage the rest before they were taken back to Courascant, and return to Kaliyo and me for extraction. Despite Keeper's relative apathy, the presence of the Jedi made me uneasy, and I felt, for once, anxious as I radioed Lokin.

"Lokin, this is Cipher 9. Do you copy?"

"I copy, Cipher 9."

The doctor's voice seemed unusually frantic when at length he spoke, which only served to increase my anxiety; I began to slowly assemble and mount my sniper rifle as I replied.

"We've received intel that Jedi are overseeing…"

"Yes," he interrupted, dropping to a near-whisper, "there are two of them. One of them is a Miraluka… He's always watching me… I think he might know…"

I swore in three different languages under my breath, sweat beginning to bead on my brow. _Fantastic… not only a Jedi, but a Jedi who can sense one's true intentions and allegiance… this isn't bad, this is borderline catastrophic._

"I need a definite answer, Lokin. Does he know?!"

"Does who know, Professor Trebizon?"

The voice wasn't Lokin's.

_ SHIT._

* * *

"Keeper, do you copy? Lokin has been compromised."

Keeper nodded, as if he had been expecting this.

"Loud and clear, Cipher 9. We began to prepare for this eventuality immediately after you revealed that Jedi were involved; as such, your new orders are ready. As part of the original plan, you will recall that Lokin was to sabotage the remaining Rakghoul serum once he recovered a sample for Imperial use. In case my terminology was too vague, allow me to elaborate. By sabotage, I do not mean rendering it useless medically; there would be too much risk involved. Doctor Lokin planted a charge on one of the three crates of antidote disguised as a Republic cargo badge; when detonated remotely, it would have enough explosive power to destroy the smuggler's ship entirely. Unfortunately, Lokin possessed the only detonator, which was disguised as a deathstick. Your new orders are to manually detonate the charge by shooting it with a bolt from your rifle between when the crate leaves the hospital and when it enters the ship. Along with the short window of opportunity, both other crates possess a similar cargo badge, and all of the three will be under heavy guard."

The hologram grinned.

"I have complete confidence in you. Keeper out."

I couldn't help but grin as well as I stowed away the holocommunicator, stroking my jet-black moustache as I briefly surveyed the landing pad below. It was relatively unsecure, located about halfway up the towering building, but possessing no intact guardrails or covered sections. The walkway running from the entrance to the hospital to the pad itself was relatively long and well-lit, and the durasteel struts supporting the entire substructure were as battered and corroded as everything else left from the Old City; my grin only grew as I imagined them collapsing with the force of the explosion, and sending everything on the landing pad into the swamp.

Kaliyo would surely get off on the idea, and I briefly thought of mentioning to her, but quickly reconsidered as I caught sight of several figures emerging onto the walkway, setting up the rifle's bipod and gazing down the scope towards the events unfolding below. The first one I saw through the intense magnification was our Miraluka Jedi, escorting Lokin across to the landing pad. The aging medic kept his head down just like he had been instructed to do in case of capture, not daring to glance in my direction; if he had followed through with the rest of the procedure, he would've also fed his captors a tragic story about being pressganged into involuntary service with a swoop gang from the remnants of the undercity, who wanted the Rakghoul cure for themselves.

The Miraluka proceeded to present Lokin to the smuggler captain, a female Twi'lek known to have a long history of cooperation with the Republic, as well as a bounty in a dozen Imperial systems. For a while, the two had a rather animated discussion regarding the situation, until eventually, they seemed to agree that the doctor was her problem, and the smuggler had a Wookie escort him onto the waiting ship. I began to contact Vector, who was serving as the exfil pilot for this op, to discuss the possibility of boarding the smuggler's ship in orbit to retrieve Lokin, and almost pressed the call button on the holocom. Then, it hit me, and I swore viciously; detonating the bomb would kill Lokin.

Honor, loyalty, duty. That had always been my code. My life. What was honorable about condemning a friend, a loyal companion, to death for the sake of the mission? I could call Keeper, but I knew what he would say, and I knew he was right. The mission matters, not honor, not loyalty. The mission. Pushing thoughts of Lokin to the back of my mind, I breathed slowly and forced myself to look down the scope again. What greeted my eyes made my blood run cold; the Miraluka was staring right at me.

* * *

I shook my head once more as I continued to wait for the crates to emerge from the hospital, struggling to keep myself focused after nearly an hour of waiting; Kaliyo had fallen asleep against the air coolant unit long ago. Darkness was nearly upon the swamp, and I wasn't keen to be stuck here at night. I shuddered at the distant sounds of Rakghouls far below, though that didn't terrify me nearly as much as that damn Miraluka Jedi had. I knew that I was most likely scared over nothing, that I had just looked down the scope when he happened to be glancing by, but there was still something about it that made me uneasy. Lokin could've buckled under pressure, or fallen prey to a Jedi mind trick; my cover could be blown and I wouldn't have a clue.

Mentally reprimanding myself for another lapse in focus, I glanced back towards the hospital entrance just in time to see the first crate emerging. Wasting no time, I injected a series of stims, adjusting the scope for maximum clarity on the scene below before swiftly analyzing each cargo badge the best I could when the SIS guards weren't obstructing the view. The first and third badges were well-used in every way, the Republic insignias dull and faded and the metal rims chipped. The middle crate's badge, however, was conspicuously clean and polished, and the view afforded by the scope's highest zoom setting revealed that, instead of standard adhesive, it was attached to the crate with a series of four miniscule durasteel clamps. Inhaling deeply as I lazed the badge and lined up a shot, I allowed the rifle to become merely an extension of my arm as my finger ghosted over the trigger, waiting for the perfect opening in the squad of SIS guards and medics escorting the serum.

"Goodbye, Doctor Lokin," I murmured breathlessly.

I saw the opening. I pulled the trigger. A shot rang out across the ruins of the Old City.

It was not my own.


End file.
